


A Taste of Sickness

by Darth_Nonie



Category: Knight Hunters, Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Dark, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-31
Updated: 2004-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Nonie/pseuds/Darth_Nonie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Timing: Not pinpointed, but probably pre-Gluhen</p><p>Many thanks to Viridian for hooking me on these poor perty killerboyz, but 's not her fault that neither Aya nor Darth Nonie are inclined towards schmoop. Or, sometimes, happy endings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taste of Sickness

They staggered back to base. Ken had taken some nasty bodyblows, but he could see the others were worse off. 

God knows what was in the glass jar Crawford had tricked Omi into shooting, but the stuff had nearly taken Yoji out before they got him clear. Ken helped him to bed now, Yoji lurching like a drunk and falling face-down across the bed before Ken could pull back the blanket. But Yoji's breathing seemed better and his pulse was strong, so Ken just removed his boots and let him sleep.

Omi's forearm was slashed from deflecting Farfarello's blade, but the wound was shallow and had ceased to bleed even before Ken washed it clean and bandaged it. "I'm all right, Ken. I just want to check a couple of things on the computer, and then I promise I'll settle down." Ken left him there.

Aya--

\--was still just inside the door, arms crossed, face in shadow, shaking. His eyes were open, but their fixed stare was blind.

"Aya?" Ken asked tentatively.

Aya turned his head away, and Ken could hear his teeth grind. This was not good.

"Aya, where are you hurt? Did Schuldig hit you?"

"I'm fine."

"Aya--"

"Go away!" Through his teeth. But the shaking was getting worse.

You'd think Ken was his enemy, not his teammate. Team. How could they fight beside each other, kill together, and still be so far apart? His soccer buddies had been closer, even that asshole Hidemi.

"Come on, Aya," he said, and clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder.

The wall hit him hard before he even realized that Aya's hand had broken his grip free and hurled him away. 

And with an arc of silver light, Aya's katana cleared its sheath, fast as death.

And stopped. 

At least Aya looked as horrified as he did. "...Ken?"

"God, Aya! --I think you dislocated my thumb."

"...I'm sorry." Shiiing of the blade being sheathed. He was going to live. Probably.

And Aya pushed off the wall, almost running for the door.

"Wait!"

Aya jerked to a stop, looking as if Yoji's wire had halted him by force. "I have to go." 

"Wait. I-- My thumb-- Can you help me straighten this out?"

Ken hadn't seen Aya this taut and pale even from bullet wounds. "Let me see." Aya's voice was controlled.

Ken extended his hand and bit nearly through his lip as Aya removed his clawed glove and probed the hand lightly. "How are your ribs?" he asked, and Ken's half-formed answer turned into a short scream as his hand caught fire again.

"G-good distraction," he said when he caught his breath. "My ribs hurt, but they're not broken." He wanted to throw up.

Aya's fingers were icy, and Ken thought for a minute he was bleeding until he saw the raised beads of sweat on the pale skin.

Aya looked down too, and yanked his hands back so fast it jarred Ken's thumb again. "Unh!"

Moody bastard. Enough. "Aya, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You want me to believe your control's always this bad now? Are we supposed to take away your sword and tie you to your bed? What the hell did Schuldig do to you?"

Those eyes weren't cold any more. They hated. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"Damn it, Aya! You nearly killed me. You owe me an answer!" Forgetting the pain, he reached out again, and Aya bolted.

Into the bathroom.

Just the sound of his retching nearly turned Ken's stomach as well, and the smell was worse, but he gritted his teeth and stood over Aya until he seemed to be done.

"Towel?"

Aya took it without looking up. Ken, without thinking, helped him to his feet.

"Ken." The voice was very, very soft, "Stop. Touching me."

He'd never been this terrified in his life.

But enough was enough, and he tightened his grip. "Aya, I'm not going to let this drop. You owe me an answer, and I'm not leaving you alone until you talk to me. Did he shoot you?"

"Oh, no." Softer still, and Ken felt the hair lift along his spine. 

"Well?"

"He just--made me see. What I didn't want to see. You really, really don't want to ask me about it."

Ken set his jaw. "I'm sure he's got some horrifying ideas. Was he--hurting your sister? In your head?"

Aya's head came up. "No," he said again. His mouth twisted further awry, and Ken saw at last that most of Aya's cold hatred was directed at himself. But Ken didn't let go, and trapped cats lash out.

"He made me see--you, Ken. Your eyes. Your face. Your...body. How you stand, how you move. How you...would look. Stripped. Or dead. How you would look to me if I w-wanted you."

Dimly, Ken felt himself blushing. Burning.

"And I do, Ken. Want you."

It was a deadly threat, but O God he was hard now. He never--he didn't--

"--Aya--" Choked.

"Don't look at me like that, Ken. Don't you dare want me too."

No words, no air. Fire.

"I'm not something to want, Ken. I'm nothing but death and the empty halls of hell. I'm a filthy infection that kills. Anything I touch."

But Ken couldn't move, couldn't let go, and Aya's thin mouth punished him for it in one slashing kiss before Aya stepped free and walked away.

And left him with nothing but the taste of sickness in his mouth.


End file.
